MIRAGE

Hey you, I saw you in the cafe yesterday.

You looked so pretty,

I wanted to be you for a moment.

Tell me, when you stroke a brush,

Do you feel like an artist,

At work on the canvas of your skin?

Or is it a tool to mask those scars,

Over which you have no more control,

Despite your best efforts?

Hey you, strumming on those strings,

The music that this universe holds,

I felt those scars on your hands.

Are you transported into an inner world,

When you play?

Or do you escape from a world

Of inner turmoil?

So, who are you truly?

Are you the person I think you are?

Or are you a mirage constructed

Around a name and face? Who are you?

-Dishna Phukan

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